


Worst in Show

by 道 (daoxmu)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Antagonism, M/M, Nipple Piercings, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daoxmu/pseuds/%E9%81%93
Summary: Akechi Goro has never bullied anyone ever and is also a pest.





	Worst in Show

**Author's Note:**

> A pointless short thing but this wouldn’t stop bothering me soooooo _( ：3 」∠ )_

At first, Goro thinks it’s a trick of Leblanc’s dim lighting. 

Today everything feels sharp, probably the caffeine speaking. The scritching of someone else in the cafe working on a crossword puzzle. The grounds pooling at the bottom of his mug.

The creases in the barista’s shirt.

Akira yawns, stretching his arms wide his eyes shut tight. Goro quickly takes a sip, peering at Akira from behind his mug. Examining the creases in Akira’s shirt. 

The second Akira pulls his arms back in Goro sets his mug down. 

“Tired?”

“Mmhmm.” Akira nods, rubbing an eye and Goro can’t help his gaze trailing down again. Not for long, only a second before he’s bringing his sight back to… eye contact with Akira.

Before he can conjure an excuse Akira breaks contact and walks off to the kitchen. 

It’s fine. It’s fine and normal everything is fine.

Akira whips around and he gets caught. _Again_. 

Goro grabs his coffee and jams at his face fast enough to clink against his teeth. There’s some movement where Akira is, Goro tries to focus on his coffee like a normal person. It’s all well and good, he catches the vague motions of Akira hanging up his apron. 

A wide toothy grin is all he gets then Akira suddenly yanks his shirt up. 

It is not fine. 

Goro inhales his coffee down the wrong pipe and a coughing fit takes him. His lungs burn, his eyes water.

“Tired?” Akira echoes next to him, rag at the ready.

“Yes it is getting late isn’t it?” Goro croaks through another coughing fit. Then there’s too much happening for him to worry about coughing.

Like Akira. Akira’s fingers tucking a stray curl behind the curve of his ear. Akira sighing then leaning in to clean up Goro’s mess. The collar of Akira’s shirt, wide enough so that when Akira leans over Goro sees cold silver rings on warm brown.

“Very late,” Goro murmurs, throat dry. Absently he hooks a finger in Akira’s collar and tugs it back to a respectable height. Topping the move off with a smile and pat.

Akira stares at him. Long enough the bubbling in the kitchen is all Goro hears for a moment. Eyes still trained on Goro, Akira jolts his shoulders and his collar slips back down.

He sees the ghost of a smile on Akira’s face. A voice in his head says ‘don’t do this.’

The look on Akira’s face says ‘I cannot wait for you to do this.’

That night seems like a fever dream the next time he sees Akira in Yongen. Standing there ordinary as ever, a far cry from the devil he saw the other night. 

It could have been his imagination.

“Careful,” Goro gasps coming to an abrupt stop at the crossing. As an extra precaution he throws his arm out catching Akira across the chest. Just to make absolutely sure Akira stops, they all know how reckless Akira can be. Nevermind that it’s Yongen and there’s hardly any traffic.

The hitch in Akira’s breath tells him it’s not his imagination.

“This way,” Goro says when Akira pauses. Like a viper his hand snakes under Akira’s jacket to get a handful of his suspenders. He gives them a hearty tug, wrenching a hilarious squawk from Akira. With an airy laugh Goro lets the suspenders go, snapping them on the way out.

Akira makes a face that reflects how Goro felt being flashed by him.

“Everything okay?” Goro asks breezily.

If looks could kindle fires, the one Akira gives him would be sure to do it.

Perhaps it’s a lot simpler. A magpie he may not be, but like his fellow corvids Goro could profess to enjoying shiny things.

Shiny things like the adornments on Akira’s chest. Barbells today, going off of how the left one feels digging into his bicep. 

Goro experimentally flexes his arm, drawing a shiver from Akira. A reaction only apparent because Akira may as well be on him. Goro takes a cursory look around the sparse train carriage, and nudges his arm against Akira again.

When Akira pulls back, stoic as ever save for a telltale red to his ears, Goro has to stifle a laugh. 

It’s that easy, until it isn’t.

Another time the light hits Akira’s chest differently. How exactly Goro can’t say, so he tries to find out.

“Hi,” he greets. Voice kind, soft, inviting. 

“Hey,” Akira replies. 

Goro quickly scans the jars on the top shelf. “I’d like to try the Hawaiian Kona blend please.”

As Akira busies himself with trying to reach the top shelf, Goro gets to work. With a grace honed in the metaverse Goro stalks over behind Akira. Taking a slim pen out he slides it under Akira’s shirt, skimming the skin.

“What…?”

A few seconds later, marked by the clacking of plastic on metal and sticky skin sounds, Goro holds the pen before Akira and twirls it triumphantly. Two bandaids stuck to it like trophies. 

Akira gapes at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. “They’re sore because of a certain _someone_. Anyway, mind putting those back where you found ‘em?” 

Impossible as it sounds Goro chokes on air. Akira’s laughter is punctuated by the rattle of the pen falling. It’s then Goro considers that maybe, just maybe, Akira isn’t the only easy one around here.

**Author's Note:**

> Might do a more explicit addtion to this someday. I just felt like writing smth light and fun for now tho. Lemme know if I should bump the rating up idk if this is a T or M


End file.
